


The 'Impossible' Dream(s)

by acehigh163



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, M/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, gay relationship (not canon)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-16
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-29 13:23:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acehigh163/pseuds/acehigh163
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Grantaire and Enjolras decide there's no harm in dreaming... and so they do!</p>
            </blockquote>





	The 'Impossible' Dream(s)

**The ‘Impossible’ Dream(s)**

 

Grantaire lays alone in his room, a cold silence ringing through the tiny flat. He is naked, sprawled on the bed, his half-hard cock in hand, visions of his ‘golden god’, his ‘Apollo’, playing on the screen behind his tightly closed eyelids.

He imagines ‘Apollo’ on his knees, those beautiful pale rose lips wrapped warmly around his dick, licking, sucking, teasing, exploring; the look of raw desire on his face, the white heat in his eyes as he hums around ‘Taire’s cock “Cum for me, ‘R’. I want to taste you on my tongue.”

But before he reaches his climax, Grantaire suddenly grabs Enjolras, his golden god, roughly flips him over, grasps his hips, pulls him close. He spits into his own palm, works his now rock hard cock, slicking his fingers with the pre-cum dripping from the head. He slides one finger inside his ‘Apollo’, moaning as hears the sudden gasp escape from those beautiful lips. Another finger in, he begins scissoring them, opening Enjolras so that he can enter him, own him, take him over, fill him up with the sweet warmth of his release.

Eyes still tightly closed, he cannot hold back any longer. Grantaire cums over his fist and belly with a low moan, hips canting, breath catching in his throat, body quivering all over with the pent up energy of his climax. As he slowly relaxes, starts to drift off, he wonders sleepily if he’ll ever know the pleasures of his beautiful ‘Apollo’, ever know what it’s like to lay beside him warm and safe. He wonders too if ‘Apollo’ ever thinks of him this way. Ah, no matter, he thinks to himself. He can always dream.

 

Later that evening, across town, Enjolras has just returned home from a round of planning meetings with the boys of the ABC Society. He is pumped up, adrenaline still flowing from the energy and excitement the boys always bring to their discussions and debates. He missed seeing Grantaire at the meeting tonight, the familiar unruly dark curls and sea green eyes, always playing the devil’s advocate, a constant thorn in his side, and yet…

He steps out of his clothes, leaving them on the floor- black skinny jeans, white t-shirt and red jacket- and into the shower, letting the hot water cascade over his bare, pale skin and blonde curls, calming him. He closes his eyes, finds that his thoughts turn to his favorite drunkard, the cynical voice, the tongue once more over-lubricated by too much wine.

Oh, that tongue! How he wonders what it would feel like, the sweet taste of wine on his own tongue as they mingled together in a passionate kiss. He would let his ‘Taire take the lead, cede control for once in this area he knows almost nothing of…He could almost feel the artist’s rough fingers gently carding through his blonde curls, calloused hand cupping his head, pulling him in deeper, desperate to taste every inch of him. They finally break apart, needing to breathe, almost immediately grieving the sense of loss caused by the separation. Panting, they rest their foreheads against each other. Now their hands seek each other, fingers intertwine, bodies press as closely as possible, each feeling the other’s arousal against his own thigh. Enjolras stands there in the shower, fist closed tightly around his engorged cock, feeling his heart speed up and his breath coming in quick, short gasps as he nears his orgasm, not wanting to cum, not wanting to lose this contact, this connection, the only closeness he knows with the man he has secretly, desperately desired for so long. But it was too much- the thought of ‘Taire’s warm tongue, the feel of his erection against the soft skin of Enjolras’ own inner thigh- and he came hard, shuddering, panting, still unwilling to open his eyes and find himself alone once more.

When he finally steps from the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, he wonders if he’ll ever know his artist’s pleasures or what it would feel like to lay naked, wrapped in each other’s arms, both of them spent and covered in sweat. Enjolras snaps himself unwillingly back to his solitary reality. Ah, no matter, he thinks to himself. He can always dream.

 

 


End file.
